Eyes
by Siamese712
Summary: I had a bit of a half dream about this. No idea really where it came from. Figured I'd share. Katara has some minor thoughts on her life after having her first child. Kataang Zutara


GranGran used to talk about how often the women of the tribe would feel sadness after having a child. I'd seen it myself a time or two. A sadness that sometimes lasted only a short period, but sometimes a long lasting depression that the mother carried with her for years. Tho I witnessed it in others, I did not understand how this could happen. Surly the love a mother had for her child would over shadow and banish any depression away, so I thought. When I was but a child myself. It was a silly thought. The sorrow wasn't as simple as base feeling and didn't bend to, nor care about, the love a mother has for her baby. Its a sorrow of imbalance. GranGran had explained that the sadness is brought on by an imbalance of chi. That when sharing your own with another growing life and giving some of it away at the moment of birth it can take time to right itself.

But then again a water bender can correct, or at least quicken the healing of, the imbalance. None of the others know this, and I think I will choose to never tell them. Never tell them that I can feel that my chi is fine. Never tell them that the ache in my chest comes not from this common depression.

Where dose it come from, then? This ache, this pain, this...regret that pools in the back of my mind as I hold the small stranger that came from my own flesh. He's a beautiful baby with, thus far, good temperament. A wonderful mix of my own traits and that of his father. He is my son -any who would look at him would know without a doubt that he is mine-, and I love him. I love him with all the fierceness and depth a mother can. The mere thought of pain or sadness coming to him fills me with a pain I didn't know I could feel. I wish to protect him more then I've ever wanted to protect anyone or anything before. The power something so small, so new to the world, has over me leaves me feeling raw and frightened. But that is all worth it when it comes to the love and warmth I feel when I hold him close to me.

I do not regret him. I do not regret having this child, but regret I do.

I regret the color of his eyes.

They are a pale color. Such is common with new babies, and his eyes may still change color yet. Darken or brighten depending on just what their finale color may come to be. They might... or they might not. I feel they will always remain pale. His eyes are pretty, there is no problem there, and they are curious. I know my son will grow to have a heart for love and enjoyment. Those eye will see many wonderful things, and I'm sure grow to make me proud. But still, they will always remain pale. A sign, a perfect blending, of the union that created him.

I will never say it out loud, I will bury it deep in the back of my mind. For to even attempt to got back now will cause too much undue pain. And tho I refuse to acknowledge the thought in it's entirety, least I and my family fall apart, it remains. I regret the union that made the boy I now so love. A union I realized too late was not the one I would have preferred.

For you see, my mind wonders. It wonders what the child in my arms would of looked like with molten gold eyes? It wonders what the union with another would of made? Would it of been a babe with my dark brown skin or would it have been lighter? Would it of been a pale tone complimented with brown locks and vibrant blue eyes? Or perhaps, much like the child I hold, would it of been a perfect blend? A lavender perhaps? I have heard that some are born with such a trait. Vain wondering I suppose. It is no longer possible, or at least would be cruel option. There are two children who exist now to think of. For I was not the one, out of us two, too have a child first.

Then I wonder, as I stare into pale wishing for gold, did he ever have hopes of blue ones? Did he ever feel a twinge of sorrow when the eyes of his child where the same of his own? The same of her mother, the same of their nation. Dose his hidden wishes line with my own? Was that why he'd given her a name that, tho a name of his country, embodied water? Perhaps such a wish, such a sorrow and guilt, only dawns on the mother. Women like I who suffer this sadness.

I smile, imagining once more a child of tan skin and golden eyes, and I see my child's father smile at the corner of my eye. Tho matured with time, he is rather naive. He mistakes my smile. He's happy to see me showing signs of coming out of the depression of birth. He thinks I smile for the simple joy I feel for the babe in my arms. He's not fully wrong, but he's not fully right either. But I will never tell him. It would be much too cruel, much too devastating. In all his grown wisdom he would never understand. In the end he has done nothing wrong. He is a good husband, a good man, and I feel he will be a good father.

Please don't take my minds wonderings for pure sorrow. Please don't take it as full regret or unhappiness. I am happy. I do love my husband, I do love our child. I should of made my inner wants known long ago if I was to. Should of said yes when I said no, and said no when I said yes. But I did not. I will choose happiness here. I will love the life we have created and the good we do for all those who come our way. I will always love my family and do what I can to protect it. I will be happy.

I just feel... I could have been happier with those golden eyes.


End file.
